Chapter Sixteen: Wolves upon Prey

Sweat beaded up on General Harn's forehead as he tried to explain
himself to Jacen. "My Lord, the Earthers' droid appeared to be a
high performance battle droid. It eliminated the entire squad, as
well as both sentries. They used the squad's weapons to fight their
way to the hangar and ... urgh ..." An invisible force seized
his throat and squeezed tight around his windpipe.

"You knew they had a combat droid. Your men should
have been better prepared. I grow tired of your mistakes, General."
Jacen glared at Harn, whose face was now a pallid shade of blue. He
was enraged at the thought that the Earthers might try to contact his
sister or disrupt the Borg sterilization job that was already sapping
the strength of his forces and wasting precious time. With the
subtlest of mental manipulations, he squeezed tighter and tighter
around the Harn's throat until the life force ebbed away. Jacen
turned back toward Kanos, allowing Harn's lifeless body to fall
limply to the deck plating behind him.

Kanos spoke quietly. "We were unable to track the ship. They
could be anywhere in the galaxy by now."

"Then find them, Admiral. You will find them, and this
time, you will kill them!" Jacen hissed. He whirled on
his heels and stalked away, leaving Harn's cooling body behind him.

Kanos waited until Jacen was out of sight. With the infant Sith
trainees to occupy his attention and millions of living beings aboard
the Crimson Blade, Kanos doubted that Jacen would be watching him.
And what if he is? I suppose I'll have to take that chance. He
gestured to Captain Daron, who hurried over.

Kanos frowned in concentration, seemingly unaffected by the sight.
"They'll be detected if they go anywhere near a Federation
system, and they have no remaining allies in this quadrant ..."

"So there's no way to find them."

"Perhaps. But Evleston is working on a special long-range
sensor sweep, in case they've stayed close to the system. If she
can't find them, then our only hope is that they'll try to contact
Picard."

"I hope it doesn't come to that. How would they even find
him? They can't possibly know his location."

"No, but I'm sure they'll be able to find him. In the
meantime, contact Evleston and obtain a status update."

"Yes, sir. Will that be all, sir?"

"There's one more thing. I need you to prep a message drone.
Send it to the Obliterator the next time she checks in. I'll compose
the message." Message drones were unwieldy and inconvenient, but
without a functioning Holo-Net in this galaxy, it was the best way to
send a message over such a long distance. It also had the advantage
of being far more secure than any transmission.

"Yes, sir." Daron smartly saluted and marched off.

Kanos settled into the captain's chair and activated the recorder.
He smiled at the recorder's eye and began to speak. "Lady Jaina,
this is Admiral Kanos. Several Federation prisoners have hijacked a
gunship and escaped into hyperspace. They are all former crew members
of the USS Enterprise, and they may attempt to contact Picard."
He paused for a few moments. "Also, I would like to report that
Lord Jacen's Sith training project is proceeding rapidly." He
switched off the recorder and breathed a barely perceptible sigh of
relief. One way or another, he would find out whether she already
knew about this project.

Aboard the stolen gunship, Riker watched the small control panel
viewscreen. For the last thirty minutes, while Data struggled to
interpret the navigation system and locate information on Picard's
whereabouts, the crew had been watching broadcasts from Earth.

On the viewscreen, a beautiful and very lightly clad woman was
seated in some sort of gleaming blue hovership, while a narrator
extolled the virtues of the small personal craft. "... assembled
to precise specifications by the Sorosuub team, the XP five hundred
is the fastest luxury landspeeder in its class. Fuel economy,
handling and reliability are all what you've come to expect from
Sorosuub, the most trusted name in landspeeders. A cockpit airflow
control field and multi-zoned adaptive noise-cancellation technology
allows you to hold quiet conversations even while you're approaching
the speed of sound, and you can relax in the rich, luxurious
Corellian leather interior. Best of all, with the Sorosuub Flex-Lease
option and twenty year warranty, you can feel comfortable about your
XP five hundred even when you're not in the driver's seat."
The woman on the viewscreen brushed her hair out of her face, smiled
at the camera, and accelerated rapidly into the sunset in the small
craft, to the sounds of stirring music. The viewscreen faded to black
and switched to some sort of racing event, in which a horrible crash
was being repeatedly replayed in slow-motion.

Riker spoke to no one in particular. "Data, this is
incredible. They've taken over all of the cultural and news broadcast
frequencies for this nonsense. And what are those short thirty second
programs they keep overlaying on top of their broadcasts?"

"The entertainment programming may be for the benefit of
their troops, but I cannot determine the purpose of the short
programs. Although one would expect the Empire to broadcast
propaganda about its own superiority, it instead appears to be
broadcasting curious stylized descriptions of its consumer goods."
Data replied.

The still-defiant prisoner spoke up. "Commercials, you
tin-plated idiot. They're called commercials! Don't you have
commercials in your galaxy?"

Data cocked his head to the side. "Commercials ... ah!
Advertisements. A type of programming dating back to the Earth's
twentieth century capitalist societies. Short video programs ranging
in length from fifteen seconds to one minute. Interspersed throughout
entertainment broadcasts, so that viewers could not see the
entertainment programming without also seeing the advertisements.
Advertisements served the dual purpose of generating desire and
steering individuals toward one particular vendor in a competitive
market. They were often based on psychological conditioning
techniques such as positive reinforcement, such as the use of the
female in the program we just saw. Her revealing clothing was
intended to attract the attention of male viewers."

"She had my attention ..." one of the ensigns
whispered. A few of the men chuckled.

Data continued. "This type of programming is no longer
relevant in the Federation. It was determined long ago that
nationalized manufacturing is far more efficient because it
eliminates the need for competition and wasteful duplication of goods
and services. It was also determined that it was wasteful to
artificially generate desire for products, because increased demand
causes increased production, thus wasting resources that could be
more productively employed elsewhere. By matching production
accurately to demand, we have eliminated the need for market
competition and the attendant need for advertisements."

Riker nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, it's amazing that
societies like the Empire can survive. They spend all of their time
and effort convincing you to buy things you don't need, and then
competing with each other to see who can sell these things to you! I
can't imagine a more inefficient way to run a society."

The prisoner had a dumbfounded look on his face. "You don't
actually believe that, do you? You're actually happy in
your little socialist paradise? What about freedom of choice? What's
wrong with you people?"

Riker looked down at the captured pilot with a look of contempt.
"In your case, freedom of choice seems to mean freedom to behave
irresponsibly. Freedom to be cruel to others. Freedom to waste
resources, and oppress the weak. We have freedom in the Federation,
just not your kind of freedom."

The pilot sneered up at him. "Freedom to play by the rules of
your wonderful, controlled, idyllic, happy-faced society until I pray
for my own death? No thanks. I prefer real freedom."

Riker returned his sneer. "Well, then it looks like we have
something in common. You don't think much of my Federation, and I
don't think too highly of your Empire."

The pilot, still tied in place, shifted his weight and tried to
lean against the wall of the cramped cabin. "Sure, whatever. But
we won ... and you lost."

Riker pointed his blaster rifle directly at the man's face. "Well,
we're armed and you're not. So this conversation is over. Keep your
mouth shut or you'll be taking a long nap, courtesy of a stun blast."

The prisoner glared but didn't say anything.

Riker decided he'd wasted enough time with the prisoner, and he
turned to look over Data's shoulder. "Data, are you making any
progress?"

"I am afraid I have yet to find any information on the
whereabouts of Captain Picard."

"Any technological information?" Riker asked.

"Apart from specifications and operating procedures, nothing.
This may be the manner in which Imperial starship computers are
typically programmed, or it may be a defensive measure against the
possibility of Borg assimilation."

"They can't assimilate what the computer doesn't know."

"Precisely. However, as I stated previously, the computer
does contain specifications and operating procedures. As a
result, I have determined how to operate the navigation system. I
have also located the specifications for this craft. It is an
Imperial assault gunship, which is apparently an upgrade from a class
of ship known as the Skipray Blastboat. It is heavily armoured and it
has shields, a hyperdrive, and an array of forward-firing energy
pulse weapons including a light turbolaser and ion cannons. It can
also carry up to eighteen missiles. Those missiles can be tipped with
anything from biological or chemical weapons to high yield nuclear
warheads."

"Not bad. What kind of warheads are loaded right now?"

Data's expression was glum. "The missile racks are empty.
Either they had not yet loaded the missiles at the time of our
escape, or they were not required for this ship's scheduled mission."

"Wonderful. Keep looking for information on the Captain's
whereabouts."

"Commander, I feel I must inform you of the possibility that
Captain Picard's whereabouts are not stored in this ship's
computer system. We may have no way of ..." the gunship suddenly
began to vibrate strongly, and Data immediately checked his sensors.
"We are caught in a tractor beam. A starship appeared without
warning, directly astern." He rapidly powered up the ship's
systems.

"Damn! Get us out of here!" Riker ordered.

"Sir, we cannot engage our hyperdrive while in the tractor
beam."

"Well, what type of ship are we dealing with?"

"It's not an Imperial vessel ... " Data paused and
rechecked the sensors. "It is the USS Tanaka, Commander. That
would explain how they were able to appear so close to us without
detection. They must have approached while cloaked, and then moved
into tractor beam range before decloaking."

Riker's mind raced while Data threw the gunship into a violent
evasive maneuver. How could they have gotten here so quickly?
he asked himself. They must have found a way to install a
hyperdrive into a Federation starship! The sobering realization
was tempered by the fact that the ship's crew couldn't possibly be up
to speed on Federation starships yet, even with help from
collaborators. Perhaps that would give him an edge.

"Commander, a second ship has dropped out of hyperspace,
approximately ten thousand kilometres away. It is an Imperial
interdictor cruiser."

"Backup, in case we get away from the Tanaka ..." Riker
grumbled.

A woman's voice came from the instrument panel. "This is
Captain Evleston of the Tanaka. It was very rude of you to steal that
ship, Riker. It's Imperial property! Surrender now, and I won't have
to destroy you."

Great, Riker thought. She's been promoted to Captain.
He tried to think of a witty reply, but came up empty. The tractor
beam continued to reel the gunship in toward the Tanaka, like a fish
on a hook.

"Data, can you break free of the tractor beam?"

"I will make the attempt, but escape is unlikely." Data
replied. The engines whined and the ship shook, but it was still
pulled inexorably toward the former Federation starship.

"This vessel does not carry sufficient firepower to penetrate
the Tanaka's shields."

Riker's jaw set, a grim line of frustration. "Damn it ...
there's got to be a way out of this ..." His brow furrowed in
concentration. "Data, do you have the Starfleet remote access
code database in your memory banks?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would that include the USS Tanaka?"

"Yes, but the Imperials may have changed the code."

"Not if they don't know it exists. It can't hurt to try."
The Tanaka was looming large in the cockpit canopy now, its running
lights blinking bright in Riker's eyes. There was some sort of
ungainly box-like object welded to the back of its primary hull. It
looked like a huge thruster pack, and he guessed that it must be the
source of the Tanaka's newfound hyperdrive capabilities. The thought
crossed his mind that if he could somehow steal the modified Tanaka,
it would be a formidable weapon. A Sovereign-class starship with a
phase-cloak and a hyperdrive ...

"I can attempt to use the access code, but this ship's
computer is not very compatible with Federation systems. I can only
send an extremely simple command. What command shall I send?"

Riker didn't have to think for very long to decide. "Put the
tactical systems into a level one diagnostic cycle. That should shut
down their shields and weapons for a while."

Data turned back to the instrument panel. The gunship was directly
underneath the Tanaka now, and Evleston's voice came through the
console again. "Lower your shields, disarm your weapons, and
prepare to be boarded. Don't force us to fire on your ship."

The tone in Evleston's voice was growing more strident, and Riker
knew she wouldn't wait too much longer before opening fire. Once the
gunship's shields were down they could be transported out, boarded by
force, or hauled into the Tanaka's shuttle bay after having their
weapons disabled. This has to work!

Aboard the Tanaka, Captain Evleston leaned forward in the
Captain's chair. The recapture of the escapees would be a nice
feather in her cap, coming hot on the heels of the hyperspace tug
project. It was awkward to attach the bulky tugs to the captured
ships' hulls, and it was even more awkward to make everything work
properly. But the complex arrangement did eventually work,
albeit slowly. The modified ships would be easily outrun in
hyperspace by the slowest Imperial freighters, but they were still
much faster than before. And the successful operation had won her a
promotion to Captain.

"Sir, they are hailing us." the communications officer
announced.

She felt more than a little bit of disappointment at the news,
hoping he wouldn't surrender so she could conduct her first live-fire
exercise in her new ship. But that would have to wait for another
day. She turned to the communications officer. "Let's hear it."

The officer manipulated the controls, but no sounds were heard.
"Sir, they sent some kind of short burst binary transmission!"

The tactical officer sounded an alarm with a somewhat panicked
tone in his voice. "Sir, the shields are dropping!"

Data put his knowledge of space combat maneuvering to good use
now. A stream of green energy blasts erupted from the nose of the
small gunship and toward the Tanaka's ventral tractor beam emitter,
punching through the unshielded components and reducing them to slag.
Once free of the tractor beam, the Skipray blastboat lurched forward,
spitting ion cannon fire into the Tanaka's primary hull and saucer
section as it moved. It accelerated past the front of the Tanaka's
saucer section, climbed into an upward loop, and then spun on its
axis to bring its guns to bear on the Tanaka's bridge. Its ion
cannons spoke, pummeling the bridge mercilessly.

Aboard the Tanaka, Captain Evleston reeled from the attack.
"Return fire!" she shouted. But the tactical systems were
still disabled, and the ion cannon fire was playing havoc with the
Tanaka's bridge systems. Consoles exploded all over the bridge, and
the grim realization dawned on her that she would never be able to
command the ship from here. "Bridge control is out! Backup
bridge, take over!" she screamed into her comlink.

The Tanaka's inexperienced crew simply didn't have the experience
or knowledge to deal with such widespread system failures, and they
seemed to be taking forever to take control of the ship. The Tanaka
spun out of control, and Evleston cursed in frustration as she
watched the diminutive gunship darting around, disabling critical
systems with a surgeon's precision. Of course, she thought to
herself, they know all of this ship's weaknesses.

The distant interdictor cruiser reacted to the Tanaka's
predicament quickly, its engines blooming to full radiance. It
accelerated rapidly toward the stricken Tanaka and its tiny attacker.

"Data, the other ship's coming right at us! I'd suggest a
strategic retreat."

"I concur, Commander" Data replied calmly, as he spun
the gunship around on its axis and pushed its engines to full power.
However, the interdictor continued to gain ground on them, growing
larger and larger in the aft viewer.

"Data, I don't suppose you have override access codes for
Imperial starships in that positronic brain of yours, do you?"
Riker quipped.

"No, sir. According to this ship's threat identification
system, they are single-seat starfighters. TIE Defender class. The
fighters are closing rapidly, and I estimate that they will overtake
us in less than one minute. The interdictor will overtake us in less
than five minutes. At this point, I calculate that the probability of
a successful escape is approximately one in eight million, seven
hundred-"

"That's all right, Data. I don't need to know the odds."
He tried to think of a way out, an escape route, a tactic that might
allow them to somehow escape this snare. But no ideas were
forthcoming, and their pursuers continued to gain on them.

Data chose this moment to deliver more bad news. "Commander,
another starship has appeared out of hyperspace, directly ahead of
us."

Riker groaned. "Boxed in. Wonderful."

The new arrival was over a kilometre in length, much larger than
either the Tanaka or the interdictor. They were trapped now between
the interdictor, its fighters, and a heavily armed capital ship. Data
threw the gunship into a downward spiral to escape the multiple
threats, and the warship's nose seemed to erupt in light as its heavy
guns opened fire. Riker instinctively flinched, in expectation of the
tremendous impact that would most likely breach the shields,
disintegrate the hull, and end his life.

But the impact never happened. He glanced at the aft viewscreen,
and saw the interdictor cruiser, still rushing forward. But gouts of
flame belched from a gaping breach in the ship's armour, just ahead
of one of its gravity well projectors. Another salvo of heavy
turbolaser blasts slammed into the nose of the dagger-shaped ship,
hitting home with a devastating impact. The ship's nose was blown
apart, transformed from a dagger-point into a maze of flaming,
cauliflowered wreckage which looked for all the world as if it had
been crushed by some giant mallet. The battered vessel fired a few
weak shots in return, then abruptly engaged its hyperdrive and
disappeared.

"What happened?" Riker asked quietly.

"Commander, the newly arrived starship attacked and heavily
damaged the interdictor. The interdictor is disengaging. The Tanaka
has regained navigational control, and it is also withdrawing."
Data replied.

Riker couldn't believe his good fortune. He stared at the
starship, slowly realizing that it was the same vessel upon which
Commander Chang had returned to Earth. He noted that the ship was in
weapons range but the tactical display didn't show any weapons locks.
"Hail them, Data."

"Hailing, sir. They are responding."

A reptilian creature's face appeared on the small viewscreen.
"Greetings, Commander Riker. This is Captain Ruk, at your
service."

Aboard the Obliterator, a junior officer marched briskly across
the command deck until he stood face to face with Captain Picard.
"We've completed our long range scans of the Borg array, sir."
he announced.

"Excellent." Picard replied. "Jump to these
co-ordinates" he said, indicating a spot near the outer fringes
of the array. He glanced over at Jaina, who had been sullen and
withdrawn ever since he had assaulted her. She sat in her chair, eyes
devoid of expression, talking to no one. The sight knifed into
Picard's heart- an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him anew,
and he resolved to do whatever he could to redeem himself.

"Course plotted, Captain. Ready to jump."

Picard straightened his uniform. "Engage."

The Obliterator hurled itself into hyperspace, and in an instant,
dropped out of hyperspace within range of the Borg array. The vast
array stretched across space like a great spider's web. Countless
huge, interconnected structures were arrayed together in an intricate
latticework, stitched together in a maze of metal. It was at once
overwhelmingly massive, yet curiously delicate and empty. Thousands
of cubes swept back and forth through its structure, pausing in their
rounds to examine the new arrival.

A familiar chorus of voices sounded through the bridge audio
system. "We are the Borg. Prepare to be assimilated. Your
existence, as you know it, is over. We will add your biological and
technological distinctiveness-"

Picard had heard this speech before. He made a cut-off motion with
his hand, and the voice was silenced. "Fire superlaser. Ten
percent power." he ordered.

Picard felt the familiar vibration in the deckplates beneath his
feet again, as colossal energies surged within the Obliterator's
city-sized bulk. A massive stream of destructive energy hurtled out
of the great ship's bow and raced toward a point at the fringe of the
array, and Picard watched impassively as it impacted into its target
with a blinding flash. The shockwave exploded outwards and
obliterated ships and structures for hundreds of kilometres in every
direction, creating a sphere of destruction in which nothing but
white-hot superheated metal fragments and vapour remained.

Picard wasted no time admiring the view. "Lock in preset
course. Engage."

The Obliterator rotated downward slightly, its engines flared
brightly, and it leapt into hyperspace. Picard watched the stars
elongate and dissolve into the now-familiar swirling vortex of
hyperspace. He breathed a sigh of relief- everything had gone exactly
as expected. He felt that he knew the Borg well enough to plan such
attacks, but in every game there was always the possibility that
someone had changed the rules. This time, the rules remained as he
had remembered them. For now... he reminded himself.

A tactical officer presented a report. "We destroyed
approximately four percent of the structure, Captain."

"Excellent. Continue on course." The Obliterator's
flight plan had been carefully planned en route to the array. It
would follow a huge, looping course that would bring it back in one
hour, without ever having to expose the ship to the possibility of
attack.

"Yes, sir." the young man replied. Picard nodded, and he
stood stiffly at attention for a few seconds. "Sir, if I may be
so bold, how many more attacks are you planning?"

"As many as are necessary, lieutenant." Picard replied.

"Sir, at this rate, it will take many attacks ..."

"I'm aware of that, lieutenant. But it will work. The
Death Star would be inappropriate. It can't maneuver quickly enough
for this sort of hit and run attack, and this structure can't be
destroyed by a single shot, not even from the Death Star's
superlaser. It's not solid enough- the shot would simply blow a hole
through the array. Besides, the Death Star can't be pulled away from
its mission."

Picard looked at the young man in front of him, and reflected that
he lieutenant would probably show more deference to any other
Imperial captain. The thought galled him for a moment, before he
asked himself why he would want to be regarded like other
Imperial captains. The question disturbed him for a moment, but it
suddenly seemed inconsequential and he let it pass. "Permission
granted," he replied. He wasn't particularly interested in
conversation, but he quite literally had nothing else to do for the
next hour.

"Sir, that's all well and good for the Death Star, but what
about the risk to us? We're out here alone, with no support
fleet, against that giant 'array', or whatever you call it ..."

"We can quickly get in, fire the superlaser at long range,
and then get out. The risk is minimal."

"But if we had a larger force ..."

"More ships wouldn't help. Our superlaser has more firepower
than a fleet of Star Destroyers, and much more range. More
ships would only be more targets for the Borg." Picard replied.

"I see. But the next time we hit them, won't they be waiting
for us?"

"Oh, I'm sure they will. But I know them,
lieutenant. I know what they can do, and what they can't. They can't
detect our approach vector, and we can take our shot from tens of
millions of kilometres away. They can't cast a net that wide."

"I see."

Picard reviewed the reports again, and decided that it was time to
put the next phase of his operation into action. "Lieutenant,
are we ready to broadcast our next attack run?"

"Yes, sir. With the support relays we've got in the area,
half the quadrant should pick this up. Coverage will be a little
patchy, but it should work."

"Excellent. You are dismissed." Picard replied. The
young man saluted smartly and marched off, and Picard pondered his
current course of action. He wasn't entirely sure of what would
happen after this broadcast, but he felt secure in his conviction
that a public demonstration of Imperial strength and Borg weakness
would have a positive effect. He glanced at Jaina again, hoping for
some sign of approval. She gave none, and he looked away. He wondered
what his former shipmates might think if they saw him now and the
thought disturbed him for a moment, but the moment passed almost
immediately. It was curious- almost as if thoughts of his old
shipmates and former allegiances grew more fleeting by the day.

Tens of thousands of light years away, Captain Ruk laid it out for
Riker and his men. "You'll never be able to reach him. Jaina is
on that ship, and all communications are being monitored. The instant
you show up, they will jam your communications and destroy your ship.
It would be a useless gesture."

"Well, how else are we going to get him out?" Riker
asked.

"You won't, Commander." Ruk replied evenly. He paused,
let his words sink in. "If your Captain was taken onto the
Obliterator as you say, then he is beyond help. If they don't need
him, he's dead. If they do need him, then Jaina has probably turned
him already."

"Turned?"

"Turned, Mister Riker. It's something I know she can do, with
a bit of effort." He leaned over and put his hand on Riker's
shoulder, as if to console him. "Why don't you pour your glass
of water on your pants?"

"Are you talking about some sort of brainwashing?" Riker
asked, while calmly pouring his glass of water on his own pants. The
cold water seemed to shock him into awareness. He jumped out of his
seat in alarm, staring wide-eyed at Captain Ruk. "How did you do
that?"

Ruk's reptilian visage crinkled in a rough approximation of a
smile. "It's an old Jedi mind trick, Commander. And Jaina is
far, far stronger than I am. I told you, if he's still alive, then
Jaina has probably twisted his mind to her uses. The Dark Side is
insidious. Subversive. Cunning. Even if you were to find him, you
might discover that he doesn't want to come back with you."

"Captain Ruk, with all due respect, it sounds to me like an
even better reason to go after him."

"Your loyalty is commendable, Commander. But it simply isn't
an option. Have you ever seen an Eclipse-class ship?"

"Yes, I have. During the last battle, just before we
surrendered. That ship destroyed the Earth's moon."

"A ship like that can take on an entire fleet, and win. Do
you think you can board such a vessel with that little stolen
gunship?"

"I don't need to board it. I only need to get within
transmission range, so I can send him a message."

"Your message will never reach him. It will have to pass
through the hands of numerous Imperial officers before it ever
reaches his ears, and that won't happen. And once you've sent your
message, you will be destroyed. You won't be able to escape; an
Eclipse class ship can generate its own interdiction field."

Riker paused, thinking it over. He looked at his men, and he knew
that they had already accepted the hopelessness of the situation. He
took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly and turned back to Ruk. "I
suppose you have a better idea?"

"Yes." Ruk replied. "Join us. We heard about your
escape, and we can use men with your skills. Your droid is known to
have extensive files on Federation industrial facilities, population
distributions, starship designs ..."

"Why would you want that? The Federation has already
surrendered to the Empire. Our resources are useless to you."

"I want that information because those have now become
Imperial industrial facilities. Imperial population
distributions. Imperial starship designs. They will use
whatever they can, slowly reshaping your society to fit their needs.
They will add your ships to their fleet, altering them as necessary.
They will use your Federation as a beach head to build a power base
in your galaxy. They will combine your people, resources, and
industries with their technology and military power to create a
self-sufficient sector government, complete with its own
military-industrial complex." Ruk explained.

"That's where the spy network comes in. We do have covert
operatives on the Crimson Blade and the Obliterator, but they've all
gone to ground and it will take a long time to re-establish contact.
I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for a while, Commander. If the
Empire is victorious over the Borg, then they will start to
consolidate their territory. They will try to make it seem as if
everything is fine, to give your people the impression that your
surrender to the Empire wasn't really that bad. Trade will be opened
up, civilian traffic will increase, and we will have time to quietly
build our spy network and our military strength."

"What if the Empire loses?"

"You don't need to worry about that, Commander. It won't
happen."

"But how do you know-"

"I told you, it won't happen." A long
silence followed. "I imagine this is all a bit much for you to
handle right now. I have some ship's business to attend to, so I'll
leave you to discuss this with your men." He walked out of the
room, and the heavy blast door closed behind him.

Riker turned off his universal translator, and motioned for a
close-in conference. "Let's hope they can't understand English."
he whispered. "Did you see how quickly he broke off the
conversation when I asked about the Borg winning the war?"

"Or perhaps he hopes for a Borg victory." Worf
suggested. "It is not uncommon for a warrior's hatred for his
enemy to overwhelm his sense of logic."

"Why would anyone want a Borg victory? I hate to say
this, but I would rather live as a human being in a dictatorship than
a half-man, half-machine in the Collective. I don't want to think
about what the Borg would be like after assimilating the Empire's
forces."

Worf's eyes narrowed, as he suddenly understood Ruk's motives.
"Commander. I believe I understand Ruk's plan. If the Empire
starts to lose the war, they will undoubtedly retreat to their own
territory. The logical course of action would be for them to destroy
the wormhole as they leave. If the Borg assimilate a large number of
Imperial ships and men, they will have to leave them behind as
well."

Riker understood quickly. "And we'll be stuck with the Borg,
who will be more dangerous than ever. Ruk will have weakened the
Empire. They'll lose ships and men, maybe even the Death Star, and
they'll have gained nothing in return."

"But Ruk and his entire crew would be trapped here with us."
Data objected.

Worf's face betrayed a mixture of anger and grudging respect.
"Sacrificing himself to strike a blow against the enemy. A
glorious fate for a warrior."

Riker's shoulders slumped. "And if our galaxy gets overrun by
Borg, well ... you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs,
right?" He looked like the last vestiges of hope had been
drained from him.

Data sounded an objection. "Sir, we do not know for certain
that Captain Ruk actually desires this outcome. The fact that it
would serve his long term goals does not, in itself, prove that he
wants it to happen. I believe we should give him the benefit of the
doubt, and assume that he is sincere in his desire to help us."

Riker looked unconvinced. "Still, the fact that he's hedged
his bets doesn't exactly fill me with confidence. I think we have to
go along, for now. But we have to be careful."

The men nodded their heads in agreement, and settled down to wait.
Some of them looked through the windows, watching the blue-white
vortex of hyperspace outside. They didn't know how long Ruk was going
to take, and started talking amongst themselves. It wasn't long
before they began to debate how the hyperdrive might function.
Theories about quantum slipstream, transient wormholes, and even the
possibility of heretofore undiscovered subspace domains were all
bandied about, and Data was attempting to access the conference
room's computer terminal when the ship abruptly dropped back into
realspace. All eyes went to the windows.

Riker stared at the view. He could see hundreds of starships, in
all shapes and sizes: Federation starships of every class, Cardassian
and Jem'Hadar warships, Romulan warbirds, and several other designs
he didn't recognize. He let out a long, slow whistle, and tried to
count the ships he could see. He knew Data could probably do a better
job, but for some reason he wanted to do it himself.

Ruk eventually returned, walking confidently through the door.
"So, Commander. Will you join us?"